Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5)

by Natasza Waters

  They chatted all the way to a restaurant situated on the waterfront. It wasn’t upscale, but Marg had heard St. George’s had good food. People strolling by on the sidewalk gave them an extra-long look when Gram’s chauffer stopped at the main entry to let them out.

  As she helped her grandmother out of the car, Grams said, “You do know you’re going to have to learn how to cook. Your mother had it easy with chefs and maids, but I still believe a girl should be able to prepare a meal for her man.”

  “I’ll work on that, Grams.”

  “Good, now tell me about this place,” she asked, gazing up at the entrance to St. George’s.

  Reaching the doorway, it opened and a warm blast of wind exited the restaurant. This wouldn’t be pleasant if the air conditioning was broken. Marg looked up and straight into the eyes of a tall, dark and unbelievably handsome guy.

  Seeing them, he held the door for her and Grams to pass.

  “Thank you,” Marg said, mesmerized by the color of his eyes.

  He gave her a quirk of a smile, then lowered his chin as they entered.

  “Thank you, young man.” Grams walked into the restaurant portion of the bar.

  The guy’s friends scooted out after Grams entered, and one said, “Way to make points with the old girl, Cobbs.”

  The guy shook his head and darted a glance at Marg before following his friends. Her heartrate tripled. Cobbs? Why did that name sound familiar? Just as she turned to follow Grams, he shot a look over his shoulder to check Marg out. Her cheeks heated with those silver eyes grazing her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her heart did a crazy kind of somersault when the slightest grin eclipsed his lips before he disappeared around the corner.

  “Coming, dear?”

  “Yeah, Grams, right behind you.”

  Chapter Five

  “Marg, darling, you look amazing,” the photographer said as they set up for a shoot on the Silver Strand State Beach.

  Curious onlookers stared as they wandered by, seeing the reflectors being set up in the sand. Within a short time, Gary, the Photographer for American Sweetheart magazine, had his equipment ready and began snapping shots, happy the wind wasn’t too strong. She wore a small bikini with little stars and stripes. Slicked up by Gary’s assistant, Marg lay on the sand as the sun began to drop toward the horizon.

  “These are going to be fantastic, maybe even cover fantastic.” He continued to squat, kneel and catch every angle while she brushed her hair up and tilted her head back, following his directions.

  Four guys walking down the beach, whistled, and she gave them a wave. One of the guys, the shortest of the bunch, stopped and yelled out. “Are you married?”

  She laughed. “Not yet,” she called back.

  He took a few steps closer while his friends laughed and hooted at him. “Go for it, Harper,” one of them yelled.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Marg.”

  “How about dinner, Marg?” Harper asked.

  Although shorter than her, he wasn’t too bad looking. “I’ll be at St. George’s tonight,” she said, rolling onto her hands and knees.

  “Then so will I, sweetheart. So will I. Keep your dance card open for me.”

  She waved him off and went into a slow crawl toward Gary as he instructed.

  “Marg, you’re gonna be a star, you know that, right?” The clicks of Gary’s camera snapped like a machinegun.

  “Don’t want to be a star, Gary. Just want food on the table and pay my rent,” she answered.

  Gary squatted in front of her and lowered the camera, hanging onto it between his thighs. “You’re kidding.”

  She sat back on her haunches, pondering. “No, why should I be? I grew up with the stars. They’re not impressive people. They’re just people with impressive jobs.”

  Gary gaped at her.

  “It’s true, and they have more hang-ups and more to lose than the rest of us. No one is ever happy with what they have. Growing up, my Mom’s friends mostly complained. Success for a friend spurred jealousy, not happiness. Success for me right now is sitting on this beach with you.”

  “Babe, you’re sweet apple pie. Beautiful. Bright. I’m not usually wrong about my hunches. Even though you’re just starting out in this gig, I think you’re going to make it to the top. Just keep your head screwed on straight, okay?”

  “Where is the top, Gary?”

  He lifted the camera and the shutter snapped like popcorn on a hot pan. “Somewhere between the cover of Vogue and a condo in Tuscany.”

  She chuckled. “Do you have a condo in Tuscany?”

  “Nope, got a two bedroom condo in La Jolla and a peekaboo view of the water.” He paused and then shrugged. “Guess we all want what we don’t have. I want an oceanfront view, and I get the feeling you just want to earn your stripes making a living, which you’re going to do. We all need a helping hand, Marg, and I’m going to help you.”

  “Gary, if you weren’t gay, I’d ask you for a date.” She gave him a huge, teasing smile.

  “For you, sweetheart, I’d go straight for a day. Now, let’s head down to the water. I want you half in and half out, lying on your back and propping yourself up with your arms.”

  Marg flopped around like a fish in the surf while Gary got his pant legs wet chasing her through the waves. As she waded to shore, a group of men in brown T-shirts and green pants ran by in formation. Flipping her hair to one side, stopping the wind from whipping it in her face, she watched them. A few of the guys turned their heads to look her way.

  Their leader called out, “Squad, halt.” He paused, then ordered, “Left turn.”

  As one group, they turned to face her.

  “Ma’am, are you trying to kill my men?” Their muscle-bound but lean leader yelled at her.

  She heard Gary chuckle behind her.

  “No, sir,” she answered back.

  “These men need to keep their concentration. How do you expect them to do that with you on the beach, while they’re expected to shorten their time in a soft sand run?” he said, sharply.

  Gary spit out a laugh.

  She gave the squad leader an innocent shrug. “It’s my job, sir.”

  “Your job is to distract my men?” His body a knot of muscle, he peered at her from beneath a ball cap that shadowed his eyes.

  She bit down on a smile. The men in the squad grinned from ear to ear.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And how do my men protect a country if their attention is on you?” He fisted his hands on his hips.

  Marg covered her mouth to hide her laughter. This guy was too much. She took a couple swaggering steps toward him and his shoulders jerked back.

  “Sir, my intentions are noble. Not to distract, but to give each man a good reason to come home. I represent the American girl, and it’s our hearts these sailors will break. How do you intend to have them master honor and bravery?” She spread her legs a little and copied the stance of the squad leader.

  A slow, wicked grin appeared from the shadow of his cap. “By weeding out the chaff and keeping the best, young lady. These men are in training to become United States Navy SEALs. Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. They are determined in all things, especially in bed.”

  The roar of laughter from the squad shot in every direction. They called out something that sounded like ‘hooah’. The team leader shook his head slowly, and she mimicked him. “It might surprise you to know that if modeling doesn’t work out for me, I’m joining the Navy.”

  “Ma’am, do the United States Navy a big favor and keep doing what you’re doing.” He paused for a split second. “Squad, atten—tion.”

  The men snapped to attention. “Squad, salute.”

  She clapped her hands together and bent over laughing when the team of men snapped their hands to their temples for a salute. “As you were men,” she called out.

  Gary ran past her and spoke to the team leader. She
saw him nod his head.

  “Come on, Marg. Let’s give these fine future warriors a few pictures to remember.”

  She ran up the beach and placed herself in the middle of them while Gary took several shots. Afterwards, she shook a few of their hands and gave a few kisses on the cheek, ignoring the warm fingers gripping her waist and a little lower than she would have wanted, but it was all in good fun.

  When she turned to leave, the leader leaned over and whispered, “I married a beautiful woman just like you, and she’s kept me coming home for years.”

  Marg offered her hand and his big paw gripped hers with a healthy shake.

  She and Gary watched the men run down the sand and into the evening light. They finished the shoot an hour after the golden light of sunset settled on the sea. As they wandered to the car, Gary pulled out his card. “Take it. If you ever need a little advice, and we all do in this industry, call me.”

  She tucked the card into her bag. “Thanks, Gary. I will.”

  “Let your agent know I’ll have these pics to her by tomorrow. Think this was a topper, but don’t let them con you into any commercial nudity. It’s the first thing they go for when they see a new face.”

  “Gladys, my agent, already talked to me about it. I don’t mind risqué, but I’m not doing nude. At this point, I’ll do just about any modeling job, but I’m keeping my goods under cover.”

  “Think that’s a smart move. Too many women are showing all. In my humble opinion, it kills the mystery and the sensuality. Women read magazines and guys strictly want the pics. Once they know what you got,” he paused. “Kinda like going to bed on the first date. No more surprises.”

  She laughed. “I hear ya.”

  “Marg, have you done any TFP’s?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, since I don’t know what that is.”

  “Time for prints. I’d be interested in doing some with you if you’d like to expand your portfolio. I know the agency has done some comp cards for you. TFP’s mean I pay you in pictures.”

  Marg leaned against her car, her foot propped on the tire. “Sure, I mean as long as it’s not an issue with the agency. That would be great!”

  “Give me some time. I want to think of an epic backdrop, then I’ll call you.”

  She popped a kiss on his cheek. “Love the idea and thanks for making me look good.”

  He cracked open the door of his convertible. “Easy job, Marg.”

  She slid her pack from the hood of her car. “Let’s keep in touch.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up. “And uh—”

  She looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Don’t go falling in love and getting knocked up too early in the game, cuz the games over once you do.”

  She gave him a meek nod and slid in behind the wheel. Gary peeled out of the parking lot, while she sat staring at the sea for a while longer. Gary said the same thing as her agent. Why did they think that her goals were to walk down a runway in Paris? It didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t need an apartment in New York. She didn’t want to rub shoulders with actors or politicians, she’d done that since she’d been born.

  A gull soared a few feet from the surface of the sea, its wings flapping a slow deliberate beat. That bird had the best life. Simple. She nodded slowly. She wanted simple. She’d grown up in grandiose, and it had its perks, but those perks didn’t matter one damn bit. A bigger house. A faster car. The next new toy had zero meaning. Admittedly, she had the silver spoon wedged firmly under her tongue from birth, but now she didn’t have extraordinary. She loved her little apartment. Going to the grocery store, stocking her own fridge and doing her own laundry didn’t make her feel like she’d lost out on anything.

  Turning the key, the sports car rumbled to life. The only thing she didn’t have was someone to dance with. To crank her engine, and that she could change.

  * * * *

  At night, St. George’s turned into a hot spot for hooking up. Marg knew this, that’s how she’d met Thane. Waiting in the lineup to get in, solo this time, she wondered what exactly she was doing here instead of trying one of the other bars in town. Was she hoping to see Thane again? Part of her plucked an arrow and shot it through the “yes, you do ring”, the second arrow sung with, “Why would you want to, since he never called back after your intense night together.” Mostly, she just wanted someone to hang out with.

  “You! Tall brunette in purple. Go on in.” The bouncer pointed at her and unhooked the rope gate.

  She held her arm out for the stamp on her wrist that’d allow her to come and go.

  The lobby overflowed with bodies. There wasn’t much point in standing around here. She wove her way toward the doors on the other side. As she entered the large room with thumping music and gyrating bodies “All that She Wants” by Ace of Base came to an end and “Livin’ On the Edge” by Aerosmith rolled out of the speakers. The disco ball shot spears of light across the dancers as it swirled. Shards of stage lights altered from blue to pink to green. Perfume and body heat saturated the air. Marg thanked her long legs, which gave her a bird’s eye view over many of the women’s heads. Bodies lined the bar like sardines in a tin, but that was her target. Skirting the tables, she wormed through the crowd. “I’d do anything for Love” by Meatloaf rolled out of the DJ’s rack of songs and the crowd cheered. Like Noah’s Arc people paired up on the dance floor.

  Breaking into an unexpected hole near a group of tables, she heard her name called out and turned. He stood out, being bigger than most men.

  “Hey, Marg.” Thane pulled away from the redhead draped on him and took the couple steps to meet her. The redhead wasn’t taking a chance on losing what she deemed her prize for the night, and followed him.

  “Hi,” Marg yelled over the music. “You haven’t been shipped away yet?”

  He shook his head, a half-smile lifting his mouth. “Not yet. How’s the modeling?”

  “Been a busy week.”

  He jerked his head at someone behind her. “You never got to meet my friend last time.”

  She turned on her high heels and the room quieted. The loud music muted from the thump of her heart. Silver eyes. The guy who had held the door for her and Grams stared at her, making her want to fidget.

  Thane’s voice filtered in, but just barely. “Patrick Cobb’s, aka Zodiak, like you to meet Marg Stines.”

  Patrick’s expression remained stoic. The room danced between dark and light, casting shadows and playing with his eyes, even more pronounced against his slightly swarthy complexion. His sharp jaw tilted downward, but his eyes never wavered. They reminded her of a wolf. Her brain kicked into gear and she remembered Thane telling her when they met, his friend had been late due to family matters.

  Patrick took a step toward her. “Hi, Margaret, nice to meet you.”

  A little deflated that he didn’t remember her, but still jittery in his presence, she said, “You, too.” Thane had disappeared with the redhead, and she didn’t care. She’d slept with the guy. She should care. Had Thane shared with Patrick? She hoped not.

  A drink in both hands, Patrick gave a small shrug. “Interested in a beer?” He offered one of his.

  “Sure.”

  “Join us?”

  Was he nervous? He didn’t look it, but his short sentences said he might be. When one of the other sailors at their table got up to dance, Patrick snagged his chair and offered it to her.

  “Thank you.” As she sat, his eyes tracked her movements, and then carried on down her legs. A warm prickling sensation flooded her veins, just like it had at the restaurant. Before she had time to think, a hand landed on her shoulder.

  “Hey, you’re here. How about that dance?”

  Surprised, the guy from the beach, shaven and smelling like someone poured cologne all over him, gave her a hug, then grabbed her hand to pull her from her seat. Patrick’s eyes only narrowed by a sliver.

  “Thanks, but I just got here.”

  The guy fr
om the beach scanned the table, then stopped on Patrick. She couldn’t remember the name his friends had used, and she wished he’d go away.

  “Don’t mind, do ya, Cobbs?” he asked.

  They knew each other? It shouldn’t have shocked her. She assumed Patrick was a SEAL. Was this guy, too?

  “Up to her.” Patrick shrugged, but his gaze spoke differently.

  A large hand crashed down on the beach guy’s shoulder, and it was attached to Thane. “What the fuck’s up, Harper?”

  A flash of dislike, followed by trepidation, galloped through Harper’s eyes. “Just saying hello.”

  “That right?” Thane drawled. “Say hello to someone else. No more room.”

  He basically yanked Harper from his path and moved in to take his place. “Everybody got a drink?” He ignored Harper as if he were gone already.

  Marg turned her gaze toward Patrick, who’d broken into a chuckle. It changed his facial features from intimidating to incredibly handsome. He and Thane bumped fists.

  “Thane doesn’t like him?” She craned her head toward Patrick.

  “Long story, but not much.”

  Patrick may have worn his short, dark hair military style, but you could put him in a suit and plaster him across a silver screen and every woman would lose their scruples.

  “How do you know Thane?” The question pulled her from her thoughts.

  “Aww, we met briefly a week ago.”

  Patrick leaned away from her without asking another question.

  “I came here with a few of the models in my agency. I’d just moved here,” she said quickly.

  “From where?”

  “LA. My family lives there. Where’re you from?”

  His lips drew closer to her ear to be heard over the loud music. “Grew up in San Diego.”

  She clasped her bottle of beer. Even though she hated the stuff, she felt like pouring the whole thing down her throat to settle her nerves.

  “You probably don’t remember, but you—”

  “Saw you coming into the restaurant,” he said. “You were with an older woman.”